


To The One I've Left Behind

by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 13:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo/pseuds/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On his wedding day, Ron's thoughts are full of thoughts of Remus and of their short time together before Remus' death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The One I've Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> A songfic. Written for the [](http://ginger-lust.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ginger-lust.livejournal.com/) **ginger_lust**   prompt fest, using prompt 12:  
>  _This one goes out to the one I've left behind_  
>  Another prop has occupied my time   
> This one goes out to the one I love - R.E.M., The One I Love.
> 
> Thank you soooo much [](http://daiseechain.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://daiseechain.livejournal.com/) **daiseechain**   for giving in to my cheeky pushiness and doing such a great job as beta.  
>  **Disclaimer:** All characters and settings remain the intellectual and creative property of JK Rowling. No money is being made from this work. Lyrics are the property of R.E.M. (Berry/Buck/Mills/Stipe).  
> 

The church bells chimed in the Oxfordshire village and every pew was full. On one side were Muggles, on the other side Wizards. They all smiled fondly on the nervous-looking young couple at the front.

“I do,” Ron said, as loudly and as clearly as he could.

_This one goes out to the one I love_

  
There was another church on his mind, though, one he'd never been inside. He had only sat in the graveyard. Sometimes he would sob there, but more often these days he just stared at the inscription on one headstone and remembered. He had spent most of the previous night there. 

_This one goes out to the one I've left behind_

“Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take this man, Ronald Bilius Weasley to be your lawful wedded husband?”

Somewhere behind him, Ron heard a stifled sob which could only have been his mother's. He tried to concentrate on the big brown eyes that gazed on him, so full of happiness and hope and love. He owed Hermione this much at least, for her to be at the centre of his thoughts on their wedding day. He was banking on her to be his one chance of a life now.

_A simple prop to occupy my time_

He could be her husband and she would make everything right; they would grow old together as they had grown up together.

Maybe, in time, he would forget.

_This one goes out to the one I love_

That long, tired face which lit up when he smiled, framed by straggling hair – mostly light brown, with every shade of grey mixed into it. Soft, pale lips which were perfect for nibbling little kisses. Rough stubble on a firm jaw.

_Fire_

One green flash of Dolohov's wand, and Remus never smiled again.

_(she's comin' down on her own, now)_

His wife had died, too. But even if she'd lived and he had never left her, Ron would have waited for him and been his secret lover. They'd never talked about the future. That was what Ron had imagined though: a future of hurried trysts in anonymous places. Even so little would have been enough for him.

Then he had seen that broken body laid out on that table and the future had stopped.

_Fire (she's comin' down on her own, now)_

Somehow Ron had become the one with the wife. She was frowning now, looking at him with concern as they walked through to the back of the church to sign the register. He flashed out one of his broad, empty smiles and it satisfied her.

She squeezed his hand. Her fingers were all soft, apart from the long, sharp nails. He noticed them because they were new. She had changed their colour and their shape.

The nails he longed for in vain were thick, ragged, a little yellowish in places. They belonged on hard-padded fingers covered in scars. They had held his head still, while Remus looked into his eyes. Only he had seen the self-loathing and despair in them. Those fingernails had scratched red lines down Ron's back later that same night.

Ron watched his own hand as it signed his name.

_This one goes out to the one I love_

A couple of nights after Ron arrived at Shell Cottage, abandoning Harry and Hermione on their search for the Horcruxes, Remus Lupin had visited. The atmosphere had been subdued, as it was everywhere at that time, but he had stayed for a meal.

He'd come to check up on Bill. Greyback had attacked them both and, while the consequences had been much worse for Lupin, Bill was still getting used to the strange legacy he had been left with. Remus tried to offer Bill some advice, and some of it was helpful, but there wasn't a lot that could be done. At least Bill had Fleur.

It didn't take Lupin long to realise that Ron didn't really have anyone anymore.

_This one goes out to the one I've left behind_

Hermione was risking her life to save the world and, in a tantrum, Ron had left her. He felt terrible; he didn't really miss her though, not the way a suitor was supposed to miss the one he loved. He hadn't ever pined for her face or form.

When Ron had gone out for a walk that night, to flick his Deluminator absently and contemplate the crashing waves, his old teacher had followed him. Having listened, he'd grabbed Ron's face and read his soul there. They'd both fallen - spiralled inwards, collapsed, disintegrated - into lust.

_Another prop has occupied my time_

While he was being taught how to love, and how to make love, Ron forgot his despair. At the times when Remus went back to look after his pregnant wife, Ron remembered that he was a failure and a pointless, disloyal, useless, friendless, stupid, short-tempered wretch. Remus always returned though, to stroke his arm and soothe him.

There were secluded beaches around there, and a woodshed they could fumble in. They never shared a bed. That might have been nice. It would have been pleasant to wake up together. Best of all would have been if Remus hadn't died.

Ron knew that they would never have had this day – the confetti and cake, relatives and roses day – but they might have had something. He tried to concentrate on the here and now. The Muggle photographer took forever to pose them and all the while Ron tried to think only of his bride. He smiled his best smile for the photos, confident that the only person who could have read how hollow it was, would never see them.

_This one goes out to the one I love_


End file.
